Wednesday, 12 April, 1944

2364226
Sergt S. Bristow
Headquarters                                                                                136.
15 L of C Signals
Cen Med Forces

12 Apr 44

My Very Own Darling,

I spent the greater part of Easter Sunday afternoon and evening sitting on the pier writing a sea letter to you.  It seemed such a long time since I had written a lengthy epistle to you and as I seemed to have plenty of odds and ends to write about I set to work and turned out quite a long one.  Actually it is 11 pages long, but as the paper is twice the size of the stuff I usually use, I think it might pass as 20 pages at a squeeze!!  Keep a look out for it therefore Darling.*

One of your letters which had gone astray turned up on Good Friday.  It was dated 24 Mar 44 and arrived at the same time as one dated 3 Apr 44, so where the heck it had been hiding, I don’t know.  In the former you were up to your neck in work, scarlet fever on the ward and various other trials and tribulations.  Who’d be a nurse??  I wouldn’t for one – and I believe I know another who won’t be one for long after the end of the war.  Am I right??  However, I hope that things have all turned out O.K. and are running as smoothly as can be expected again.

The one dated 3^rd contained the good news that a new photograph was on the way out to me.  Now I am counting all the days twice over; once towards the end of the war and once towards the middle of next month when (the APO etc willing) the photograph should arrive.  Oh, Darling!  How I wish that you were coming instead.  This life wouldn’t really be too bad if you were here and we had a little house on our own to go to when the day’s work was finished.  I think Kipling must have been troubled with that little word “if” just as much as I am. 

The last few days have been really pleasant.  A fig tree which overhangs my office window has broken into leaf, whilst a couple of wall flower plants on some waste ground are in flower and making a brave show.  They seem to be the only flowers for miles around, and their perfume tints the cool evening air making a pleasant change from the usual musty smells one experiences on an Italian evening.  Wall flowers have a pleasant smell, haven’t they?

I was wondering the other night what sort of a gardener I should make when we are married.  I hope we can manage to have a decent sized garden and I hope also that you don’t turn out to be one of those awful women who insist on having vegetables in the garden.  I don’t mind growing flowers, but there’s nothing romantic in a row of spuds although they are more utilitarian, I suppose.  What do you think about gardens??

Have you finally fixed up about your holidays, dear?  Wouldn’t it be grand if we were making arrangements to have a holiday together?  There’s not much hope of any leave around this part of the world, but I am doing my best to “wangle” two or three days off so that I can have a squint at Naples, Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii.  Whether I shall be successful I can’t tell.

You mentioned that perhaps you would be going home to Grimethorpe for a week-end on the 7^th.  Did you make it and did you get all the “Grimethorpe Griff”?  If you’ve any juicy tit-bits let’s have them!!  (Worse than an old woman, aren’t I?)

Pleased to hear that all your family were keeping well, and was amused at your remarks about the Male Voice Choir’s visit to Beckett Hospital.  Was rather hard on the patients, wasn’t it?

Well, Angel, the space is getting short.  I’ve just got room to tell you how much I am missing you and looking forward to the day I shall be able to take you into my arms again and experience all the thrills that you give to me.

I love you so very much Darling.  That’s what makes all this waiting seem endless.

Always you own, Stan  xxxxx

* This long letter does not seem to have survived.  I suspect that these descriptive letters were passed around the family and did not always return to Grace.

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